


Not Ready to Say Goodnight

by emptyswimmingpools



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, im literally incapable of writing anything over 1k words i swear, most of this is speech, this is a bit ridiculous really idk why i wrote it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptyswimmingpools/pseuds/emptyswimmingpools
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Connor and Troye make a dumb bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Ready to Say Goodnight

**5:03p.m.**

"Why are you so determined to stay up the whole night, anyway?" Connor asks, taking a seat on the edge of Troye's bed and putting his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Because," Troye starts, "when was the last time I promised myself I would do something and stuck to it?"

Connor thinks for a moment. "Pretty much never," he bluntly states.

"Exactly! I figured that this'd be an easy-ish way to prove myself," he explains.

"But you're shit with late nights. I don't think you can do it. No offence."

"Aren't you, like, obliged to be supportive? Isn't that your job, as my boyfriend?" Troye points out, all traces of offence in his voice done mockingly.

"Not when I know you're wrong."

"Okay, fine. Let's make a bet out of it. Loser gives fifty bucks to the winner," Troye challenges.

"You're on."

 

**6:32p.m.**

Troye sinks back into the sofa in his living room and tries to stifle a yawn, failing at doing so. Despite this, he somehow doesn't quite feel tired yet - an absolute miracle in his books.

"You're literally yawning already," Connor says. "I have this in the bag. You might as well just pay me now," he teases, observing Troye's actions.

"I'm not tired!" he insists, though Connor is incessant upon disagreeing.

"Sure you aren't," he mutters, before grabbing a book from the shelf and opening it up, beginning to read.

Troye huffs. Perhaps this will be a long night.

 

**8:45p.m.**

"Wait, am I allowed caffeinated drinks? Is that cheating?" Troye asks as he goes to make himself (and Connor) a cup of coffee.

"Let's say... no more than three cups," Connor settles for.

Troye nods. "Right, okay."

Connor stands up and walks up to him from behind. "You're making me one, too?"

"No, Con. I'm having two to myself." Queue eye-roll. "Yes, of course one's for you. Aren't I an amazing boyfriend?" he teases.

"Sure, but you'd be even more amazing if you could cut down on the sarcasm."

Troye scoffs. "Rich coming from you," he says.

"You wanna bet on it?" Connor asks, and Troye stops right in his tracks.

"I think we're done with bets for today, don't you think?"

Connor can't quite disagree with that.

 

**10:24p.m.**

Troye's definitely beginning to grow a little tired now. His yawns are becoming more frequent; Connor has noticed this and has been sure to comment on it at least three hundred times a second (an over exaggeration, but that's not the main point).

The two are sat close next to each other watching TV, though they aren't particularly paying much attention. Connor's more focused on editing some pictures he took earlier, and Troye's transfixed by it. 

"I'll never get how good you are at that," he mumbles.

"Could say the same to you with your music," Connor responds, leaning closer into Troye, and saving the file.

Troye blushes lightly, and he hopes that Connor doesn't notice - he'd most likely be teased for it. But, y'know, like a loving kind of teasing, if that makes any sense at all.

(In the end, Connor did notice, but didn't say anything because it would've ruined the moment.)

 

**12:17a.m.**

Troye insists that he is only lying down on their bed because it's more comfortable than the sofa, and he's not wrong - it's just not the real reason.

Really, he's fully prepared to give up, but at the same time, he's determined not to. His thoughts are a jumbled mess at this point.

"Do you think the stars ever get tired of our shit?" Troye asks, not quite fully aware of what he's saying.

"Huh?"

"Like, they're watching us, right? From way up there," he elaborates, pointing upwards at the ceiling durinh the last couple of words.

"I think the stars don't really care. They don't have functioning brains, and they probably can't hear us from that far away," Connor points out.

"You don't know that! You aren't a star," Troye defends.

Connor chuckles. "What if I'm a star in disguise?"

"But you aren't." He pauses, then mumbles, "if you were a star, though, you'd be the brightest one without a doubt."

Connor smiles. _God, I'm so lucky_ , he thinks.

 

**2:02a.m.**

Troye's almost out at this point. He's continuing that thing where he just blurts out a load of random stuff on his mind that doesn't make sense half the time.

He's in a soppy, sleep-drunk state, and Connor finds it somehow ridiculously cute.

Winning the bet isn't even on the top of his priorities - spending time with sleepy Troye is more important.

He shifts a little, and from next to him, he hears Troye speak again. "Isn't it funny how a billion different coincidences has lead us to this exact moment?"

"S'interesting. Like, if one thing had happened even the slightest bit differently, we could potentially be in a completely different situation right now."

"Yeah." Pause to change position. "I'd like to think that we'd have somehow met anyway if a few of these coincidences were different, though."

"Maybe we'd still be here right now. We'll never know, I guess."

 

**10:23a.m.**

Troye wakes up with a headache and a note by the side of his head on the pillow that reads:

_Troye, I went out to the store to get some breakfast. By the way, you lost the bet. I'll take that fifty bucks when I get back. - Connor_

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> hi how r u all
> 
> hope u enjoyed despite the disgracefully short word count (if its any consolation im working on a much much longer tronnor thing rn)
> 
> title is from eyelids by pvris


End file.
